Midnight in the Garden of Life and Death
by June sky
Summary: Draco revives Tom Riddle for a plot, but soon finds that the tables have turned. DracoTom slash smut


Midnight in the Garden of Life and Death

Disclaimer: All materials belong to J.K. Rowling

His mother had been throwing some sort of party. All the respectable women were there, drinking tea and talking about trivial things such as the weather. Draco took refuge in the attic of the mansion, among the books, boxes, relics, and secrets.

In a box, he found a book, it wasn't very old compared to some of the other volumes, but was battered and there was a gaping hole through the middle. And of course it had its share of secrets.

On the cover it said "T. M. Riddle." He felt a smile come across his face. Revenge on Harry Potter and his little red-headed slut was going to be sweeter than the purest of sugars. He was going to bring back the boy who ruled the school from behind Ginny's brown eyes.

Draco told his parents that his pouring over books was for a school project. His mother was so pleased, and more importantly she kept her husband's suspicions out of the library to let her "little angel" work in peace. The only thing that could help him was the Dark Arts; they had created this, so they must resurrect it. He was prepared to make any sacrifice; he _needed_ Tom Riddle.

It took months of around the clock, his not-eating-not-sleeping behavior began to take his toll on his body, but his mind would not give up. He was sent back to school, his trunk full of books, and his head filling with more questions and thoughts. He could have spent years in the Malfoy's private library and he would have never found the book he needed. The book that he had been searching for had been in the Hogwart's library. It was very old; the letters of the title had peeled off maybe eighty years ago, and the pages stuck together with age. The day he would act was a week away.

The night had come. He waited until he was sure he could hear the other boys' snores and the lightness of their breaths. It was 11:20; forty minutes left. The teachers and prefects were in their imagined spots. Getting out of the castle was easier than convincing Crabbe and Goyle that Robin eggs were candies. In Hogsmeade he dissapparated. His father taught him. No use waiting for the muggle lovers to teach you he told him.

Upon arriving he heard the squelch of mud beneath him. Looking up he could see the now passing rain clouds. A crescent moon showed brightly behind them. He moved forward, looking for the right grave. From life comes death; from death comes life.

He found the orphanage's plot. There was no gravestone. The orphanage she died in didn't even know her name, all they knew was she died one hour after giving birth to a little boy, who she hoped would resemble his father. The mother would have to give him life again.

Not wanting to waste any of the last three minutes he had left, he took out the book and laid it on the grass. He pulled out his wand, and a flask. Inside the flask was a potion that would temporarily link the dead to the living, or in this case, a living memory. 11:59: It was time.

He began working, surprisingly, his hands didn't shake. He poured the potion over the grave, and said the incantation. Time would do the rest. He waited silently, but saw no result. His tired eyes could not see the hole growing smaller.

The black hole had filled over with the exact cream color the rest of the page was. There was no wind, but the pages began to move. Then they stopped, and nothing else happened; no magical phenomena, no revenge.

Disappointed and angry that he had lost so many months, Draco lifted himself off the ground. He turned around, and on the bench maybe four feet away sat a boy. He was smiling. BeforeDraco's mouth formed the words "Fuck off" he noticed the boy's clothes: a Hogwart's Slytherin uniform.

"You know," said Tom, "it's very rude to tell people to fuck off."

"I'm sorry," Draco said, not even trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Tom said nothing. He was looking down at his hands, his long fingers flexing. At closer look, they were dry and cracked. He had a very handsome face. An Adonis in a school boy's uniform.

"Well," he said at last, now looking at him with his blue eyes, "You must be very clever to have figured out how to fix the diary. I thank you." He held out his hand to shake with Draco's.

They shook hands.

"Your hands are so cold." Draco said, as he put his own into his pocket.

"I haven't felt any real warmth in decades. Your hand was the first real human touch I've had since 1942." A smile was forming on his pink lips, that unlike his hands, were smooth.

Draco smiled kindly; he had no idea what to say or do now. Tom Riddle took two steps forward. He was now face to face with Draco. He leaned in, and whispered:

"I need something else from you, something to prove your loyalty. I need your warmth."

Draco thought that he meant to kill him, and to leave him here alone, to be found by the muggles. His mind was now completely blank. He then saw Tom undoing his belt, and unzipping his perfectly creased pants. The blood pumping from his heart all seem to go exactly to his groin.

"Of course." Draco said, his voice unexpectedly high. He was looking into Tom's blue eyes as he undid his belt, fumbled with the button on his pants, and the zip that seemed to echo in his head. Tom's smile grew wider.

He moved down slowly. Then Draco felt the warmth of his mouth around the head of his cock, the softness of his tongue. He felt his knees shake, but he remained standing. More pressure began building and then he felt himself cum. Pansy's blow jobs were a joke.

Tom was now level with him again, his lips still perfectly pink. "Lay down," he said, his voice still in a whisper."

"W-what?" Draco's mind went back to the thoughts of his corpse laying face down in the mud.

"I said _Lay Down!"_

Draco laid down on his stomach. The mud was cold as it oozed and touched his bare legs; Tom had already taken off his pants. _This isn't right,_ he thought, _I'm not gay._

"Neither am I," said Tom. Then he moved into Draco.

Draco winced and his eyes began to water. He felt blood( _So this is what it is like to have your cherry popped)_ and he heard Tom grunt in his ear. Looking up at the clock it was 12:57.

With one final thrust, he felt Tom cum. It was warm. He rolled over onto his back, his entire front covered in mud. Tom's cheeks were flushed as he buttoned up his pants.

He picked up Draco's forgotten wand, and before knocking him out he said, "I'm a pawn in nobody's game but my own."

Next morning, the wizardry world didn't know what hit them. Draco did. It was Tom.

The End.


End file.
